Worst Vacation Ever
by 2Old4This2
Summary: When Han and Leia decide to take a much needed vacation, they've planned for every possible contingency. Or so they thought. After all, what could go wrong?
1. Chapter 1

**Worst Vacation Ever**

_A _StarWars_ Fan Fiction_

_Author's note: I should explain... I started this story as a gift for a friend who was having a bad day. It was supposed to be a one-shot, never-to-be-posted, piece of fluff. However, it seems that I am constitutionally unable to write a one-shot, and said friend really wanted me to post it. So, here it is. At least it's still fluffy. Oh, and I gleefully own all of the mistakes-grammatical or otherwise!_

_Chapter One_

With the consummate skill only an experienced mother has, Leia Organa-Solo deftly caught the cup her three year old son, Anakin, was trying to throw on the floor. She managed this feat one-handed, since she was scrolling down her upcoming appointments on her personal planner with the other. At the other end of the small kitchen, her husband was supervising their five year old son Jacen, as he washed his breakfast off his face and hands at the sink. In the midst of all the activity, Jaina Solo sat at the table, spooning cereal into her mouth and reading a story on her datapad. Just an ordinary morning at the Solo residence.

It was all good until Han's comm beeped for attention.

"Whoever you are," he began, handing a towel to Jacen, "I hope you fry in the he—" He froze midword when he saw Jaina's bright eyes focused on him. "—in the cooker," he concluded.

Across the room, Leia snorted.

"Solo," he barked into the device. A blast of excited shyriiwook exploded from the comm. Han pulled it away from his head. Every other Solo in the room turned to look at the sound.

"Uncle Chewie!" Anakin crowed with delight from his high chair.

At that moment Han could only be grateful that his children were not yet fluent in Wookiee-speak, because 'Uncle Chewie' was using some pretty colorful language.

"Oh, my!" Threepio commented from the other room.

"Can it, Goldenrod!" Han called out, more out of habit than anything. "Tone it down, will ya?" he continued, speaking to Chewbacca over the comm, everyone can hear you. There are kids here."

The Wookiee's growls and moans lowered a few decibels.

"I wouldn't be too sure of that, furball," Han said. "They're pretty smart kids." Paternal pride aside, Han was a little suspicious of how much his children _were_ able to understand—some of the looks they got on their faces—they _were_ pretty smart kids. And then there was that whole Force thing.

There were a few more snarls and moans from the comm.

"Twelve-hundred. I told you we'd be there at twelve-hundred." Han rolled his eyes heavenward. "Don't get so excited, we're not going to be late. We're already packed and Leia's last appointment is at…"

"Ten-thirty," his wife mouthed at him.

"Ten-thirty," Han continued smoothly. "We'll be ready to lift by twelve-thirty, I guarantee it." He paused to listen. "You got it, buddy," Han agreed, glancing over at his wife, who was now talking into _her_ comm. "I'm really looking forward to this trip, too." He cut the connection.

"…just want to let you know that this afternoon the children will be picked up by their uncle, Luke Skywalker." Leia tapped her foot impatiently as she listened to the voice on the other end. "That's right, he's their uncle," she said again. "Yes, he has my permission, he's my brother!"

This time Han, busy freeing Anakin from his high chair, let out a snort. Leia made a face at him as she disconnected.

"I think we've got everything covered," she said as she herded the twins toward their backpacks and the door. "Luke will pick up the twins after they're finished with school this afternoon. He and Mara will watch them while we're away." She looked over at Han, who was wiping down their youngest with a damp cloth. "I'll take Anakin with me to the office; Winter can pick him up there."

"Do you really think it's a good idea to let Winter and Tycho take care of him?" Han asked her.

"It can't be any worse than when you left the twins with Luke, Chewie and Threepio, can it?" she asked in reply. A soft smile wiped some of the stress from her face. "Besides, I think they're kind of looking forward to it. And looking forward to when they have their own."

"Yeah, but what if it sends Tycho off screaming?"

Leia merely rolled her eyes as Han finished getting Anakin into his jacket. "Grab his bag for me, will you?"

Han handed over the carryall filled with the small boy's clothes, toys, and favorite whubby. "Are you sure you can you manage all this and get the older ones to school?" he asked her.

"I ran a rebellion; I think I can manage three kids," she replied tartly.

"Fine, your Worship, fine! You two," he said addressing the twins, "you be good for Uncle Luke and Aunt Mara, understand?"

"But we're always good, daddy," Jaina said, with as much dignity as the five year old could muster. Her twin nodded solemnly.

"Poor Luke," Leia observed, without the least bit of sympathy.

Han gave each child a warm hug.

"And you," Han reached down and picked up Anakin. "You're going to be really nice and good for Auntie Winter, right kid?" He kissed his son on his pudgy cheek and handed him over to Leia.

"I'll see you at twelve-hundred," he said, now kissing his wife—and definitely not on her cheek. "And please don't be late. Chewie is so worked up over his trip to Kashyyyk, I'm afraid if we don't get off on time he'll rip my arms off, life-debt or not!"

"I won't be late," she assured him. A banging noise had her stepping out into the hallway. "Jaina! Stop poking the lift buttons!" She and Anakin hurried after the twins. "I really need this vacation!" she called back to Han.

"Me too!" he assured her.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Still fluffy! Mistakes are still all mine!_

**Worst Vacation Ever**

_Chapter Two_

Han and Leia stood together in the warm golden glow of Eliantis' sun and watched the _Millennium Falcon _lift into the planet's turquoise-blue sky. Han's eyes followed the freighter until it had disappeared into the upper reaches of the planet's atmosphere. He gave a little sigh.

"Don't worry, Chewie will take good care of her," Leia said, patting her husband on the arm.

"He sure was in a hurry to get out of here," Han observed.

"Of course he was. He hardly ever gets to see his family. Lumpy's almost grown."

"Well, I don't make him stay!" Han's face reflected old frustration.

Leia only nodded; it was a conundrum that seemed to have no solution. Chewie missed his family and his homeworld, but always viewed his life-debt to Han as his greatest priority. The best Han and Leia could do was make sure they were in the vicinity of Kashyyyk at regular intervals, so that the Wookiee had a built-in excuse to visit his home.

Eliantis certainly fit the requirements. The sleepy little world was only a few hours from Kashyyyk at sublight speeds, and was what Leia could only describe as perfect. Most of the planet was covered by warm seas; the landmasses consisted of crystal white beaches, beautiful blue grasses and towering, broad-leaved trees. Its biggest export was an exquisitely fermented grass wine; its biggest import was tourists.

"You did comm them for transport, didn't you?" Han asked, shading his eyes as he stared off down the empty road.

"I commed them from the _Falcon_, you heard me. Unless it's possible the ship's comm isn't working properly?" Leia suggested sharply, but there was a twinkle in her eye. Even with the _Millennium_ _Falcon's_ myriad foibles, Leia loved the battered freighter as much as Han did. Well, maybe not quite that much.

"Listen, Your Worship," he began, fully prepared to pick up their ongoing argument from wherever it had left off last time.

"There, look!" Leia cut him off and squinted down the road, pointing at a lone speeder heading in their direction. "They did get my message." She turned to her husband with a smug smile. "I'm sorry I maligned your ship—this time."

Han's smile was a combination of exasperation and affection as he bent to pick up their bags and deposit them in the now waiting speeder.

####

**When they were still back on Coruscant, planning their getaway, **they'd chosen to reserve a room at one of Eliantis's smaller, lesser known establishments. Han and Leia were no longer considered a celebrity couple, per se, with reporters and holocameras following them everywhere, but their faces were known, so the less they had to deal with crowds, the better their vacation time would be. Also, with Leia's position in the new government, there were the ongoing concerns for her safety. There were always people who were willing to make their political points with violence—and people who were crazy. Not that Han doubted he could protect his wife, but again, the less people around, the easier it would be for him to do so.

The young man who now stood in front of them at the quaint resort's registration desk could only be described as beautiful. His skin, stretching smoothly across a well-shaped face was the color of rich kaf, and his hair was a startlingly intense blue-black. At the moment, a crease of confused concern marred the smooth skin between his green eyes; he couldn't understand why the honored sir was displeased with him.

"This isn't the room we payed for," Han said, for at least the fourth time. "Put us in the room we payed for!"

"But, sir!" the beautiful young man countered, "this is a better room. It's more than a room; it's a villa!"

"But we're not paying for a villa!" In days long passed, Han would have taken the upgraded accommodations with a cheerful smile and no thought that doing so was just the tiniest bit dishonest. But Leia, marriage, and children had given the former smuggler a compulsively honest streak. Besides, he couldn't risk anyone thinking Leia would use her position to receive special treatment.

Right now, Leia was watching her husband with her diplomatic smile fixed firmly on her face. She admired Han's desire to be honest to a fault, but secretly she was hoping they'd end up in the villa.

"Is there a problem?" An older woman, as attractive as the young man, asked as she joined him behind the registration desk. There was a definite family resemblance; they were probably mother and son.

"I was instructed to give the honored sirs this room," the young man pointed at something on a screen built into the desk, "but this honored sir," now he pointed at Han, "does not want to take it."

"Ah, yes," the woman murmured, "I changed the accommodations as I was instructed."

"Instructed?" Han asked suspiciously.

The woman looked closely at Han's face, than at Leia's. A glimmer of recognition flickered across her features. "Yes," she said. "We received a message for you early today. I'm sorry you didn't receive it immediately. You must forgive him." She looked sternly at the young man.

Leia assured her that there was nothing to forgive, it was obviously some sort of simple misunderstanding. She reached out her hand for the datapad containing the message.

Han peered over her shoulder as she activated the device. Chewbacca's face filled the small screen.

"Friend," the message began in Basic. Obviously Chewie had had the message translated, probably to make it easier for the resort's proprietors to understand.

"Have you stopped arguing with the poor beings who run this establishment?" the Wookiee's translated voice continued. "You are a very stubborn human." Leia barely stifled a giggle. "Please take the room they are certainly tired of trying to give to you. I arranged for the upgrade as a gift to both of you, for allowing me to use your ship, and for the time to visit my family. Please enjoy yourselves. And Han?" Chewie's blue eyes twinkled, "try not to be such an ornery nerf!" His image flickered for a moment before the screen went black.

Leia handed the device back to the woman and smiled graciously. "Thank you very much for delivering the message, and for making the room changes on such short notice." She extended her hand, reaching for the other woman's. "If you could just have someone show us to our room?" she asked.

With a sigh of relief, the young man picked up the Solo's bags. "If the honored sirs would follow me?" He walked back outside into Eliantis' mellow light.

Leia grabbed her dumbfounded husband's arm. "Come on, Flyboy," she said as she gave the arm a playful tug, "let's get this vacation started."


	3. Chapter 3

_A heartfelt thank you to everyone who has read, reviewed, favorite and/or followed this story. And, of course, any mistakes are mine and mine alone._

**Worst Vacation Ever**

_Chapter Three_

**Even though the resort was small, the villa to which the Solo's were escorted was a work of art. **It consisted of three levels, all of which had breathtaking views of Eliantis' violet-blue ocean. The upper two levels had balconies; the lowest level opened out onto shimmering crystal sands. There were comfortable chairs and sofas spread throughout the villa, a well-stocked eating area, a holoscreen, and the biggest, most hedonistic bed either of the couple could ever remember seeing, much less using.

"Oh!" was all Leia could think of to say as she made her way through their accommodations. She stepped out onto the balcony from the bedroom and breathed in the heady perfume of fresh air, sea water, and vegetation.

"Oh!" she said again, smiling. "And we have this for a whole week," she remarked with something very much like disbelief.

"A whole week," Han agreed, joining her. "You know, if this is one of the smaller resorts," he continued, looking back inside the villa, "maybe we shoulda tried one of the bigger ones."

"No! This is perfect, just perfect." Leia turned to wrap her arms around her husband's neck. Popping up on her toes, she gave Han a quick kiss, full of promise. "I'm just going to empty my bag; then we can get down to serious vacationing."

Han gave her rear a playful squeeze as she went back inside. "Your wish is my command, your Worship!"

Twenty minutes later, Leia was back out on the balcony. She'd shed her travel clothes and donned a silky red sarong; it covered enough, but not too much. At least in Han's opinion, and he was an expert on the subject.

He gazed at his wife with unabashed admiration. Twelve years and three children had altered her figure, but only for the better, he thought. Her body had always been an interesting combination of lush curves and strong muscles, but now the curves were softer, more comfortable. Maybe the word should be mature, but Han would have cut out his own tongue before he'd say that word to Leia. He'd been married for seven years—it wasn't like he hadn't learned anything! And those muscles; they were still there and still strong. His off-center smile appeared.

"Can I interest you in something, Flyboy?" Leia propped her hand on her hip and smiled sharply back. Ten years ago that particular smile might have been interpreted as _what the hells do you think you're looking at, _but Han knew it now meant _come and get it._

"I think I might take a little taste," he answered. "Here," he said, nibbling her ear, "and here," Han's lips moved down to her neck, "and here." Cupping her head in his hand, Han's mouth moved over hers. Leia molded her body to his, kissing him with an enthusiasm twelve years and three children had done nothing to dampen.

"I think maybe we ought to move this feast indoors, your Worship," Han said against her mouth. His silky baritone had gone a little throaty. Without waiting for a reply, he scooped Leia into his arms and carried her indoors, depositing her in the center of the large, cushy bed. He lowered himself on top of her.

Leia's comm bleated.

"Fry in the deepest pit of all the hells," Han snarled at the offending instrument.

"Han!"

"What? There aren't any children here to hear me!" he protested. Being a parent, however, had its responsibilities—they couldn't ignore the comm. With an angry groan, he rolled off to lay at Leia's side.

The comm sounded again.

Leia's eyes narrowed as she reached for the device. "I hope nothing's wrong," she said.

Han nodded.

"There are two text messages, no voice," Leia explained as she thumbed the comm on. "One is from Winter; Anakin is behaving like a dream."

"Did you give her the right kid?" Han asked.

"The other is from Mara," Leia continued, ignoring Anakin's father. "The twins have finished their homework and are playing games with Artoo. She didn't want us to worry."

"There isn't a message from Luke, too, is there?" Han queried caustically.

Leia laughed. "No. Those two were it."

"Do you want to comm the kids?" he asked her, all teasing aside.

An expression of horror crossed Leia's face. _"Kriff, no!" _she swore. "This is what I want." With a laugh, she flipped herself over on top of Han.

####

**The sky had turned to midnight blue velvet** **before either Han or Leia became aware of their surroundings again.** Han twisted a lock of Leia's hair absently around two fingers while he gazed out the open doorway toward the beach beyond. He could hear the rush of the waves against the shore. One of Eliantis' three moons was already high in the sky, a second was just coming up past the horizon. The third, as far as Han could tell, wasn't visible at all. That was alright, he thought, two were enough. The sand of the beach sparkled like firegems, and the still, dark sea reflected the crescent of moon number two in magnified perfection. Han didn't think he'd ever seen anything quite so beautiful. No, he amended, he didn't think he'd ever seen a landscape look as beautiful. The most beautiful sight in the world, for him, lay nestled against his bare chest, with tangled hair and half open mouth. Han kissed her forehead and Leia grunted sleepily in response. Han grinned.

Then, Han's muscles tensed and the smile faded away. There was a sound, other than the rolling surf, just the slightest swish of sand against a foot. There was someone walking outside the villa. Carefully, he nudged his still sleeping wife away from the open doorway. There was no law that said walking on the beach in the middle of the night wasn't allowed, he reminded himself, but that didn't mean he had to like it. He heard the sound again, closer now. Whoever was out there was either making no attempt at concealment, or was a rank amateur.

Quietly, Han slipped out of bed, groping for his pants in the dim light. He had no difficulty locating his blaster. Leia sighed and shifted in the bed, but didn't waken. He moved down the steps to the main level.

The sound of the footsteps changed, they seemed to hesitate for a heartbeat, then step onto the stone apron at the villa's door. Han moved soundlessly to the door, blaster raised. With one hand, he disengaged the lock, sliding the door open. With the other hand, he shoved his blaster into the face of the individual on the other side of the doorway.

"Honored, sir, no!" The voice of the young man from the resort squeaked. "Please, please do not kill me!" he begged. "I was told to come and get you, sir. You and the other honored sir."

"Han?" Leia called out. She started down the steps to the main level, a sheet wrapped around her, only partially concealing her breasts.

"Leia, don't come down here," Han ordered her. He turned to the boy at the door. "What do you want?" he ground out.

"Princess, please," the boy said, looking beyond Han. Han turned to see Leia, standing directly behind him, of course. At least she had the sheet more securely fastened, he thought. He didn't _really_ want to shoot the kid.

"Han, put the blaster down," Leia requested. "You're scaring him."

"That was the idea."

"Princess Leia, honored sir, please come with me. The governor asked for you. There is a problem only you can help with."

Han's thinly worn patience was ready to give way altogether. "What problem is that?"

"There is a star destroyer orbiting Eliantis, honored sir."


	4. Chapter 4

**Worst Vacation Ever**

_Chapter Four_

_A star destroyer. Really?_

Han lowered his blaster and looked at his wife. Pulling the sheet a little more tightly around her breasts, she stepped forward, every bit the princess. Only Leia could achieve that kind of dignity wearing nothing but a bedsheet, Han thought proudly. With his free hand he hitched his trousers up a little higher on his hips. Going commando had its disadvantages.

"What's your name?" Leia asked the young creature gently.

"El'd'rad," the young man answered, keeping his eyes carefully averted. _Good choice, _Han thought.

"El'd'rad, how do you know there's a star destroyer orbiting your world?" Leia stepped past Han, the sheet dragging on the floor behind her, and looked out the door and up into the night sky. It was unlikely that the destroyer would be visible to the naked eye, but if El'd'rad looked up and pointed, at least they'd know that this was probably a case of mistaken identifying and could then proceed accordingly.

"Because traffic control saw it on the sensors," El'd'rad replied, an edge of disdain lurking in his meek tone.

"Have they identified themselves?"

"No. And they don't answer Control's hails, either."

A star destroyer. An unidentified star destroyer, for _kriff's_ sake! Han rubbed his hand along the back of his neck. It could be anybody, he realized—a rogue warlord, a rogue imperial crew, a rogue admiral like Thrawn. Did Black Sun have star destroyers? And what could any of them want from a sleepy little world like Eliantis? Kashyyyk was close by, and there were always groups who wanted to subjugate the Wookiees. Good luck with that, he thought. The Wookiees were done with subjugation. Han supposed he should comm Chewie, though, just in case.

Then there was the possibility that some group that currently didn't like the new government knew that Minister Leia Organa-Solo and General (ret.) Han Solo were vacationing on Eliantis. Han didn't like that idea for so many reasons, starting and ending with the fact that it meant Leia could be in danger. And he didn't have access to the _Falcon, _another mark in the not-so-good column_. _But sending a star destroyer for two nearly naked people? That seemed like overkill to him. He wondered if Eliantis harbored a cache of secret superweapons. Or, maybe the crew of the destroyer was here for the grass wine and resort facilities, just like he and Leia were. He gave a mental shrug; anything was possible.

_Oh, hells!_

"If you're governor is on top of this, why do you need me and my wife?" Han asked finally, posing what he thought was a very reasonable question.

"Your wife, Princess Leia Organa is—"

"Organa-Solo," Han corrected.

"Princess Organa-Solo," El'd'rad amended smoothly, "is a famous honored-person. She has ended many wars, and…"

_And right now she's naked except for a bedsheet, and I had plans for getting rid of the sheet!_ His lips compressed to a thin line of disappointment before he covered his mouth with his hand.

"…you, honored-sir, are…" El'd'rad's voice faded to silence. He seemed unsure on how to define Han Solo.

Han dropped his hand to his side and his eyebrows drew together.

"Han," Leia touched him lightly on the arm." I think we should see what's going on, don't you?" Her eyes traveled down along his well-muscled torso to where his pants rode low on his hips. Her lips twitched. "And we should probably get dressed."

One eyebrow rose, a nonverbal _oh_ _really_? Without another word, Han turned and stomped up the stairs.

"El'd'rad, would you mind waiting here while Captain Solo and I, er, get ready?" Leia asked. "Then you can take us to the governor."

"Yes, honored Princess Organa-Solo." The boy's eyes were focused on a point somewhere over Leia's head. _At least he's a quick learner, _she thought as she gathered the hem of her sheet in one small hand and followed Han up the stairs,_ polite, too._

_####_

**The governor's office was a cramped, untidy space in a building adjacent to Eliantis' commercial space docks. **Looking around, Leia thought it bore a strong resemblance to Han's office alcove in their flat. Datapads and flimsies covered most every horizontal surface and a partially-open drawer seemed to have exploded a mass of shipping orders, bills of lading, parts requisitions, and all the other bits of data that were necessary when it came to hauling freight. It _was_ just like Han's office; the only things missing were the cookie crumbs. Han swore that the crumbs were courtesy of Jacen, who had a fondness for berry cookies, but Leia suspected that her husband's fondness for the treat was at least as great as that of her eldest son.

Governor F'as'seal ran a hand self-consciously through his silvery gray hair before he swept a stack of flimsies off a chair and invited Leia to sit down. Everyone else in the room, except for F'as'seal , remained standing. Leia pondered why El'd'rad and his mother were there, but she was clear on why the head of Eliantis' patrollers and the head of Traffic control were there.

"So," Leia began.

"What can you tell us about our visitors?" Han interrupted. He was leaning against a cabinet, arms crossed over his chest. His gaze was all business.

Leia smiled for a heartbeat, before her face once again assumed a look of competent concern. Her husband would never be a diplomat, but he could certainly cut to the heart of a matter.

"The star destroyer reached our space about six hours after you and the princess arrived, Captain," the governor said, with a heavy dose of accusation.

"Hey, we came here for a vacation, nothing more!" Han shot back.

"Han," Leia interjected. "Let's let them finish telling us what happened, okay?"

Han didn't look happy, but he seemed willing to hold his tongue. For the moment.

"I tried hailing them, but I received no response," the controller picked up the story.

"What does his transponder say?" Han asked. So much for holding his tongue.

"There is no transponder signal!" the controller exclaimed, "but the sensors clearly show a star destroyer. That's why I contacted the governor."

"Pirates?" Leia asked, twisting in her seat to look at her husband.

"Even a pirate knows enough to send out a transponder code. A false code, but something to keep the locals from getting suspicious." Han looked puzzled. "But no pirate's got a star destroyer. Black Sun?" Han countered.

Leia shuddered. "I hate the thought of a Falleen with a star destroyer."

Han's answering nod was grim. "I don't know if that would be better or worse than a rogue warlord."

The small room grew silent. Finally Governor F'as'seal breathed out a heavy sigh.

"It appears I was mistaken," he said contemptuously. "Apparently the great princess and her consort can't help us after all."

"Now wait just a minute! Nobody talks about Leia that way!" Han sprang forward; only a quick grab by Leia kept him from taking an admittedly well-deserved swing at Governor F'as'seal.

"Han, let's just go back…" Leia began.

"What about the star destroyer?" he asked her. "A star destroyer is never good."

"It's your fault that it is here!" El'd'rad cried out suddenly.

"What are you talking about?" Han asked him.

"You killed her!" the young man shouted, striding forward till he stood toe-to-toe with the Corellian.

"What are you talking about?" he repeated. Honest confusion replaced the honest anger on Han's face. "Who?"

"My mother!"

Both Han and Leia turned to stare at the older woman in the room. "Then who are you?" Leia asked her bluntly. Her diplomatic skills seemed to have deserted her as the situation traveled to the far side of unbelievable.

"I'm his aunt. But I've raised El'd'rad since he was an infant. I doubt he remembers his mother." She paused and seemed to look inward. "My sister left him with me when she went to join the pilgrims on Ylesia." She heaved a sigh of resignation for things long past. "I never could understand how she could leave her child."

_Ylesia! _Han groaned internally._ Was there no way that unpleasant piece of his life was ever going to be left behind? _Still, he'd never murdered anybody. "I didn't kill your mother, kid. I'm sure of that."

"She died during that raid!" El'd'rad was almost crying now.

A lot of innocent people had died during that raid. Leia reached out and squeezed Han's hand.

"I'm sorry, kid," was all Han could say.

"But what has any of this got to do with a star destroyer orbiting my planet?" Governor F'as'seal demanded.

The door slid open and a small, slender woman slipped in.

"Young El'd'rad is smarter than he looks," she said. "That's my ship; he called me."

"And who are _you?_" Han growled.

"I'm Lian Greelanx; you killed my father."

_Oh, hells!_


	5. Chapter 5

_Still claiming all grammar errors as my own!_

**Worst Vacation Ever**

_Chapter Five_

_This cannot be happening!_

Every eye in the small office was focused on Han Solo. The governor stood; his eyes wide. His mouth was open as if he had something to say, but nothing came out. The traffic controller took one cautious step back, while the head of the patrollers appeared to be sizing him up. Han was aware of them all, but the only person that mattered to him was Leia.

She knew his history; she had quietly expunged most of it—due to his past and continuing service to the then Rebel Alliance and the now New Republic. But Leia knew everything. What she hadn't found by searching through the official records she had been told by Han—or by Chewbacca in a few instances. But ever since that slow trip to Bespin, he had been completely, _totally, _open with her. He knew it couldn't be any other way. But did she know that?

Han sought out her face, across the sea of horrified, unimportant ones between them. Leia gazed back at him, her eyes steady and calm. She sent him the tiniest of nods, and he swore he saw the corner of her lips twitch with a suppressed smile. He took a deep, relieved breath and looked away; he supposed it was time to deal with his accusers.

"You," he said, pointing at El'd'rad, "what happened on Ylesia was—" Han knew what he wanted to call that long ago raid on the slave world, but even though there were no children present, Leia was, and he didn't want to share the ripe Corellian obscenity that had popped into his mind, even with her. "—unfortunate," he finished.

"Unfortunate!" the young man shouted, "That was my mother!"

"And I didn't kill her. Leaving you and going to Ylesia did." Han turned away from the other man. He could sympathize with the kid, he really could. Han, of all people, knew what it was like to grow up always wondering about your parents, but being accused of murder really ticked him off.

El'dr'ad sputtered and squirmed, but his aunt held tight to his arm, keeping him back.

"And you," Han addressed the individual who had identified herself as Lian Greelanx. "I have no idea who you are." He scratched his ear. "Or who your father was," he added.

"Of course you don't. His life was that unimportant to you."

"So why don't you fill me in," he requested, his tone icy.

"Han," Leia cautioned. She shifted in her chair to look at the other woman. The expression on Lian's face made Leia uneasy. She reached out with the Force, as Luke had taught her, and she didn't like what she felt there any better than what she could see with her eyes.

"Han," she said again, "why don't you go a little easier." She sent him a rather pointed look, which her husband seemed inclined to ignore.

"I don't need anyone to go easy," Lian snarled. "I've been waiting 20 years for this!"

"Who _are_ you?" Han asked again. "Who is she?" He looked around the room; no one made a sound. Why the hells wouldn't anyone answer him?

"Let me help you," Lian said venomously. "Do you remember the battle for Nar Shadda?"

_Nar Shadda! _That was as long ago as the raid on Ylesia. No, longer. What was with these guys? Did they have some sort of club; survivors of Han Solo's not-too-pretty past? And Greelanx? Somewhere in his distant past the name was familiar…

_Greelanx! _Now he remembered, Admiral Winstel Greelanx, late of the late Imperial navy. Willing to be bribed in order to throw a strategic battle. And…

"I didn't kill him!" Han actually smiled, because now he remembered. "I didn't kill him, Darth Vader did!"

Leia's eyes widened and her mouth opened a little in shock. Han sent her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. So he hadn't told her about this particular event; he couldn't be expected to remember them all, could he? It wasn't like he was trying to hide anything from her.

He turned his attention back to the distraught Lian. "Your father wasn't exactly a model Imperial officer," he told her, ignoring her hiss of rage. "He was happy to let the enemy win a battle they shouldn't have been able to, for the right amount of money. Darth Vader, uh, executed him for his crimes. I had nothing to do with his death!" Han concluded triumphantly.

"You offered him the bribe! You let that—Darth Vader person—kill him!" she cried out.

_Kids! _She obviously didn't know much about the Dark Lord. "Sister, no one ever tried to stop Darth Vader, and lived, didn't live to regret it!" he said. Since Han actually had tried to stop him once, on Bespin, and had ended up spending six months in carbonite, he knew what he was talking about.

She shrieked wordlessly, fury reddening her features.

"You're a liar!" El'd'rad shouted from his corner of the office.

Han's head snapped around; he'd forgotten about El'd'rad.

"Kid, everything I've said is the truth." He hoped his smile was calming.

"Han!" Leia shouted the warning.

Maybe not calming.

Everything happened at once, then, both too fast and too slow.

El'd'rad cried out incoherently and charged at Han as his aunt lost her grip on his arm. He made contact with Han's midsection, knocking into him in the same heartbeat as Lian Greelanx aimed a small blaster and fired at him.

Everyone dove for the floor. The noise of the shot in the enclosed space was terrible. Flimsies and datachips flew through the air like confetti. The worst, though, was the smell—ozone and charred flesh.

The room went as still as death.

Leia raised her head cautiously and looked for her husband. Han lay on his side on the floor, unmoving; Leia could see charring on the sleeve of his shirt.

_Han!_

Leia was across the space and on her knees beside him in an instant.

"Han?"

Leia grabbed his shoulder and tried to turn him over; Han groaned. Leia felt the invisible cord around her throat—tighter than Darth Vader could ever have caused—melt away at the sound of that groan.

Gradually, Leia became aware of her surroundings. El'd'rad sobbed in his aunt's arms. The governor's chair screeched on the wooden floor as F'as'seal righted it and pulled himself up. She could hear scrambling sounds as the chief patroller and the traffic controller came out of hiding. And she could hear the labored breathing of Lian Greelanx.

"Is he dead?" Lian asked her.

"No."

"Then you better move out of the way, Princess, unless you want to die with him." Greelanx waved the blaster at Han.

"I don't think so."

Luke was always warning Leia of the dangers of the dark side of the Force, reminding her that anger, fear, and aggression would lead her down that path. There were times, however, when that didn't sound so bad. This was one of those times.

With an indistinct sound, Leia launched herself at Lian Greelanx. She caught the woman around her knees and sent her crashing to the floor. With one quick move, Leia grabbed the blaster and tossed it out of reach. Greelanx grabbed for a handful of Leia's hair; a rookie move. With another quick, practiced motion, she freed her hair and smashed her fist into Lian's face. Then Leia hit her again, and again, until the other woman collapsed into a whimpering heap on the floor.

"No one hurts someone I love," Leia said matter-of-factly. She wasn't even breathing hard.

Han had raised himself to a sitting position and was now leaning against the cabinet. Leia crawled to his side—now that the danger had passed, she found that her legs wouldn't support her. With gentle hands, she pulled at the scorched sleeve of Han's shirt, trying to see how bad the burn was.

"It's nothing," he told her, trying to push her hand away, "just a graze."

Leia looked at the charred, bleeding flesh. Han wasn't fooling her for a minute. She knew exactly how badly a graze from a blaster could hurt.

"Sure it is, Hotshot," she told him fondly, as she wrapped a cloth around his wounded arm. Being a mother had its advantages, she always had a clean cloth tucked in a pocket, just in case.

Han caught her wrist and inspected her right hand. The knuckles were bruised and bleeding; the hand itself was starting to swell. He frowned in concern

"I was mad," Leia said, as if that explained everything.

Han nodded, opened his mouth, closed it again.

"Yes?" she asked him.

"Leia?" Han looked cautiously at his wife. "Did you growl?"

"What?"

"Before. Did you growl?" A smile started at one corner of Han's mouth.

"Maybe. But I think it was more of a snarl." Reluctantly, Leia smiled as well. She twisted herself around to sit next to him, leaning back against the cabinet.

As they watched, patrollers rushed in. Soon both Greelanx and El'd'rad were secured in binders.

"Princess, Captain Solo," Governor F'as'seal sputtered, "I've sent for the medics." The man had the good grace to look sheepish. "I'm so sorry for all this."

Leia nodded. What else could she do?

Next to her, Han was starting to get to his feet. "Just stay there and wait for the medics," she ordered him.

"Whatever you say, your Worship." He slanted a smile in her direction. "I wouldn't want to get on your bad side."

Leia tried moving the fingers on her swollen hand, with little success. "I really hate this trip," she said.

"Worst vacation ever," Han agreed.


	6. Chapter 6

_Last chapter! My thanks to StatsGrandma57 for reading through this for me. And thank you to everyone who read, reviewed and followed the story._

**Worst Vacation Ever**

_Chapter Six_

**Leia sat on the balcony watching blue-violet waves lap at the fringes of sparkling sands.** The turquoise sky was filled with sea-avians, swathed in rainbows of colors. It was paradise; there really was no other way to describe it.

With a sigh, she tried to flex the fingers of her right hand. They moved, but only slightly, as if they were doing so grudgingly. She picked up the coolpak she'd set aside on the balcony railing, and once again applied it to her swollen and bruised appendage. She really didn't think that the coolpak was doing her hand any good, but Elaintis's one doctor had insisted that she use it. So had Han. There were some things you just didn't bother to fight about.

"You know, I still can't believe this view."

Leia turned at the sound of her husband's voice. He paused for a minute to look out across the beach before dropping into the chair next to her. He propped his bare feet on the railing in front of them. Leia noted that he was still holding his injured arm stiffly. If they'd been home on Coruscant, one trip to the medcenter would have had that arm fixed as good as new. Her hand, too, now that she thought about it.

"How's your hand?" Han asked her. He could always read her thoughts.

"It's much better," she lied.

Han reached over and plucked the coolpak off the injured member. One eyebrow rose doubtfully. Running a gentle finger over the scabbed knuckles, he winced in sympathy.

"For a little thing, you sure know how to throw a punch," he teased.

"Very funny. I wouldn't have to, if you could just learn to duck." She put the coolpak back on her hand; at least that hid the damage. "How's your arm?" Leia asked him.

"It's just fine."

Leia reached out a hand, her good hand, and motioned as if she were going to poke him. Han shied back and winced.

"Oh, really?" Her own eyebrows arched.

"Gimme a break! I've had worse." He smiled complacently. "This'll just leave another scar." Han shrugged. "It adds character."

"I think you've already got enough of that," Leia retorted, picturing the other marks of 'character' that peppered his body. But she smiled back; what else could she do?

She supposed yesterday could be considered a character builder, but it was still an experience she could have done without. Yes, it might have been so much worse, she thought with a sour smile, but still…

The whole elaborate scheme had been set up by El'd'rad, when he recognized their names on the reservations. He really was smart, as Lian Greelanx had boasted, arranging the complicated deception in a matter hours. The irony was that El'd'rad had already known Lian Greelanx—they'd bonded through a mutual hatred of Han Solo. Maybe Han was right—maybe there was a club—people waiting to get him on account of his former life!

And there had never been a star destroyer. Poor Han! The former smuggler had been fooled by the combination of a false sensor reading and a false transponder code. If word ever got out, he'd never live it down!

Leia reached over to brush her fingertips across his hand. Han's fingers squeezed back tenderly in reply. They sat together, watching the waves and the avians. They didn't talk, there was no need to. It was perfect.

"I want to go home."

"Huh?" Han let his feet fall from the railing and turned to look at Leia. "Wait a minute?" he asked her. "What?"

"I want to go home." she repeated.

"But I thought you said this place was perfect?"

"I did. And now—I want to go home."

Han didn't miss the little pause in her statement; that was always a clear indication that the princess meant business. He allowed shock to register on his features.

"But we have four more days," he objected. "And I'm reasonably sure there won't be any more death threats—or imaginary star destroyers." He smiled encouragingly at her.

"I don't care!" Leia exclaimed, tossing the coolpak to one side in an uncharacteristic show of temper. She surged to her feet. "This has been a miserable trip!" she continued. "I want to go back to my messy flat and demanding job! I want to sleep in my own bed! I want to kiss my babies." She drew a shuddering breath. "I want to make sure your arm is properly taken care of," she put a finger to his lips to stop him from interrupting, "and my hand," she concluded with a wry smile. "I just want it to be over."

Han stood and gathered his wife carefully into his arms, tactfully ignoring the tears that welled in her eyes. They stayed like that for some time, and while Leia reined in her emotions, Han enjoyed the comfortable feel of her body against his, the clean scent of her shampoo, her place in his life. He loosened his hold on her when he felt her spine stiffen. She tumbled back down in her chair.

"But we can't just go home," she sighed, wiping at an escaped tear. "It wouldn't be fair to Chewie. He was really looking forward to this week."

Han sat back down as well. "It's okay, Chewie's good with it," he told her.

"What?!" Leia was stunned; she jumped back to her feet. "You commed Chewie?"

"And Tycho. And Mara." His lopsided grin was positively blinding. "We've got it all worked out."

"What did…?" she began. "How is this…?" Leia stopped, started, stopped again. "Why did you talk to Mara?" she asked. It might be the least important question, but it was the best she could come up with.

"Luke wasn't around. I think he was off someplace corrupting our children." Han's smile wavered a little. Leia could see that he was only half joking about her brother and the twins.

"Don't worry," she said. "Luke knows how we feel about training the kids before they're older." She looked Han straight in the eyes. "Okay, Flyboy, spill!" Leia poked an uninjured finger into the middle of her husband's chest. "What have you been doing?"

Han leaned back in his chair, hands behind his head, the off-center grin firmly back in place. "It's good to have friends in high places. When I called Chewie, he was ready to jump into the Falcon and rush us back to Coruscant." The smile faltered, just for a minute. "I really didn't want him to do that, so I started thinking. Then I called Tycho, who told me Wedge actually was on planet." The smile reappeared. "They arranged for Chewie to borrow a shuttle, one of those old lambda class jobs. He just has to come back to Coruscant with us to pick it up."

"Chewie hates those things," Leia commented.

"Tycho offered to let him borrow his X-wing."

Leia sputtered out a laugh. Picturing Chewbacca folded into the cockpit of an X-wing was quite an image.

"Chewie will be here first thing in the morning," Han continued. "By tomorrow evening he should be back on Kashyyyk again with Malla and Lumpy." His smile grew soft. "And we should be back in our messy flat with our three messy kids." Han flicked a finger across Leia's cheek. "I knew you wanted to go home."

"You did all this for me?" Leia could feel the tears starting again.

"Well, yeah!" Han grinned smugly. "Anyway, I want to go home, too."

Careful of his injured arm, Leia tightly hugged her husband. Careful of her injured hand, Han hugged his wife tightly back.

"This has been one hell of a vacation," she commented from the vicinity of Han's breast bone. She could feel his answering nod against her hair.

"Hey," he asked, stepping back, "do you want to go try out the bed again?"

Leia looked up at him. "To sleep?" she asked hopefully.

"Hells, yes," he agreed with a yawn. "We can save the good stuff for when we're at home."


End file.
